


"you're on in ten, boys."

by losestelia



Series: you're on [1]
Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Requited Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, being an idol is hard guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losestelia/pseuds/losestelia
Summary: 5 words.7 perspectives.





	"you're on in ten, boys."

**Author's Note:**

> guess whos back, back again  
> -rose

**1**

“you’re on in ten, boys.” a bodiless voice whisper screams from somewhere in the dark tent. something wet and cold swipes across his forehead, a make-up artist holds his shoulder to reach up and fix his lip tint. his hair is matted with hair spray and their stylist’s tears to keep his dusk red mop in place. hyojin squints to see the big shadow of jaeyoung swaying to the thumping bass from the stage, hyojin can barely make out the words being sung. his mic is heavy, strapped around his head. the chords tickle his back as seungjoon’s shaking fingers feed them through with the mic pack. seungjoon is saying something but obviously not of importance because he doesn't bother to speak up over the bass. he’s shaking all over, like it’s the first time he’s performed. worse. like it’s his audition, like he’s 20 or 18 with a microphone in his hand and important people in front of him. his throat is closing up on a high note, seungjoon taps him on the back to tell him he’s done. 

he gives him a thumbs up, still shaking. 

he wants to go home and curl up with in the smells of the dorm. all the members chattering about nothing over dinner. none of them are tired or fighting over big things. they aren't nervous and aren't burdened. he wants to go back to a time when the feeling of a mic and chords and make up didn't make him want to curl away. when he didn’t wish to put all the noise and commotion off for another day and would willingly jump onto the stage to share his voice. he can feel the anxiety coming back, the feelings he thought he’d overcome when he became an idol. he closes his eyes and remembers everyone that will be on stage with him. what they've worked for, how they must feel. 

“there’s no hiding, hyojin.” he mumbles to himself, “don’t hide.”

**2**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

the air is thick with the scent of people. hundreds in a close space, breath forming big tornados, voices crashing waves. he’s drowning and whirling with the force of it all. he has eyes all around the room, making sure no one is too nervous or too tired or injured. he instructed everyone to stay together and not make too much noise. now, in the tense and loud silence inside their tent, he wishes someone would cut up. hyojin is shaking steadily, not in the jittery way or the ‘stop it, you’re tickling me’ way. in the ‘i’m panicking’ way, in the ‘hold my hand and tell me it’s okay’ way. he can’t do that, not here with cameras. best friends forever, right? but people tend to get the wrong idea sometimes. he’d pull hyojin into a tight hug and never let him go if he thought it would help. for now, he pats him on the shoulder and flocks to the rest of the group. 

he counts four. 

“where’s minseok?” he whispers to changyoon, so he didn’t alert their manager. who seemed to have a few nerves of his own. changyoon leans over, a hand on his back like he’s just done to hyojin. 

“he said he needed a walk.” 

the sirens in seungjoon’s head blared and his eyes felt like there were going to fall out of his skull.

“and you let him?” he grits his teeth at changyoon who isn't looking at him anymore, he’s watching the stage. his lazy pupils following the dancers like he’s reading words in a book, he sighs. 

“he’s an adult,” changyoon shoves his hand deep in his pants pocket, “you know that, right?”

seungjoon’s eye twitched and his toes curled, not anger though. changyoon had a way of pushing the tiniest most crucial buttons for no reason other than because he could. he knew how to make people think without having to think too hard himself. he was smart but clumsy, helpful but passive. he couldn't hate him for that, it was one of the most interesting things about him. 

“i’ll go get him. don’t go run off.” he brushes past him to the thickening darkness outside the tent. he can't see but he’d rather trip over his own feet in the dark then let changyoon have the satisfaction of seeing him go back for a light. 

“sure thing, leader-nim.” changyoon’s voice calls over to him but when he looks back the familiar figure isn’t visible through the dark.

**3**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

he calls back in acknowledgment but his voice dies without accompaniment. the atmosphere is different now than before. jaeyoung isn’t singing softly to himself anymore, yuto and minseok have stopped whatever animated conversation they were having, minkyun- minkyun looked like a train had hit him. he was objectively handsome, clothes pressed, not a hair out of place, makeup accenting his already strong features. his eyes- his eyes looked cloudy. like he was thinking of a million things at once or nothing at all. he was up late at the company yesterday holed up in his studio like always. he got a text asking if he wanted anything from the convenience store around 2 am. he’d gotten up because his stomach was growling so naturally he begged minkyun to buy him kimbap and the most sugar-filled beverage in the store. minkyun told him he’d have to meet him at the store if he wanted something. changyoon didn’t question it in his craving for kimbap and just pulled on a sweater and baseball cap to brace the mangwon streets. minkyun looked perky, tapping his chopsticks on the metal tables outside. he had a steaming plastic bowl of ramen in front of him with a plastic bag sitting in the chair across from him. he was wearing a thick black hoodie in the middle of june and navy adidas joggers. changyoon winced at the fashion crime he was committing and shoved the bag onto the table so he could sit. 

“kimbap?” 

“in the bag.” changyoon snatched a plastic covered triangle out of the bag and tore it open, sinking his teeth in it and groaning. minkyun picked the carrot chunks out of his ramen, “no ‘hello’? no ‘thanks’?” 

“hello. thanks.” changyoon deadpans around a mouth full of rice. minkyun laughs, in the real way he laughs when it’s just them. he worries at some point minkyun will just burn out, his creativity and will won’t be enough to drag his body along. his diet of convenience store ramen and red bull will shut his organs down. at 24 he’s acting 16. sneaking out to work on projects no one knows about, late nights wandering the streets home like he’s sleepwalking. he’d be wasting his breath if he scolded him, he’s polite but his skull is thicker than concrete when it comes to his health or his art. 

“what are you doing up hyung?” minkyun swallows around a mouthful of green tea, the first slightly healthy thing he’s seen him consume in the past week. 

“hungry. what’s your excuse?” he knows minkyun doesn’t like prying. he’s giving but only of his resources and time, he rarely gave up a real story about himself. he likes to remind him he still cares about what he’s up to even if minkyun would never say. he asks his questions like this because years of fights with him over his privacy have taught him to. 

“music, everything's coming together.” he says that like changyoon should know what an ‘everything’ is. like this is a follow up to minkyun’s imaginary tale of the song he’s working on. how can he be proud when he has no idea what he’s proud of?

“nothing else?” he looks him in his heavy eyes, lined with baggage he would never unload. never concede. 

“nothing else.” he smiles but looks away first. 

“is something going on,minkyun? you should just tell me so i can-” 

minkyun puts a hand up to stop him, changyoon feels the words pile up in his throat. 

“i’m fine.” 

changyoon huffs, “you say that but-”

minkyun looks at him, really looks at him. not in the examining way he looks at him when he wears tight shirts or bold make up. not in the way he looks at him from across the stage with sweat across his forehead and a big open grin on his face. he looks into him, into his eyes and not just at them. he looks at him in the way he looks at himself in the mirror, how he looked at changyoon with tears in his eyes at their showcase, how he looked into the sky when they sat by the river as trainees. minkyun strumming his guitar like it was breathing and changyoon watching him like he was a diamond in a shiny case. 

“i say that because that’s what i want you to believe. you know it’s a lie but let’s play along like it’s true. like there's cameras.” his voice is low and raw from use, real and quiet with honesty. changyoon doesn't know if he likes when minkyun doesn’t lie to him. he doesn’t know if this is better or worse than just letting the questions about his time evaporate like summer rain, if that's really what's best for minkyun. does he need help, does he need guidance? does he need a listener, a solution, a kiss, a smile? 

is there anything changyoon could give that would solve- or mend?

“our job shouldn’t follow us like this.” he says after a while, minkyun exhales like he’s repeating himself. 

“it’s not a job anymore at some point. we don’t work at a department store hyung, our jobs are us. and why is it lying to you now and an image when there's a couple more people and some music?” 

it fucking  _ stings _ to think this is what it boils down to: lies and cameras. 

“hey, i know you’re upset but don’t ask me shit questions you don’t want answers to. there are six people who aren't you having to look into the same cameras every day, we’re not asking you to lie to us. we’re not asking you to be anything for us or for anyone. and if that's the pressure that's got a cloud over your head then rethink some things.” changyoon doesn’t usually raise his voice at minkyun. they’re close enough in age where it would just make things weird, he’s like a friend. and he doesn’t like the distance that comes with-

“yes hyung.”

-acting like an authoritarian. 

that night ended as suddenly as it began. ramen was half touched, green tea bottle crushed and recycled. changyoon watched minkyun leave ahead of him, the significantly lighter bag of 1000 won kimbap and soda. 

“i think i need a walk.” 

minseok walked briskly in front of him and out into the dark. when he blinked back to where minkyun had been he was looking back at him. staring like changyoon he’s a crystal lake full of fish, like he sees something in him. 

not like he had anything to say. 

**4**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

he hates when noise cuts through the dark. he hates that in the middle of visual quiet it’s loud and banging on his ears. it reminds him of when he first joined the company, a young angry boy with a semblance of a dream. he was running from his hometown, his overbearing parents, the feeling of knowing every way around. the more he walks down familiar streets he grinds his teeth. he used to dance in the practice rooms by himself. he’d lock the door and turn off all the lights but one and pretend he was on a stage alone. lights shining and eyes watching him, captivated and impressed. he’d blare the music and make it echo through the halls late at night. so late only the debuted groups would be there. practicing  _ their _ songs and  _ their _ dances for  _ their _ fans. he was jealous of them, of course. maybe it was just the loneliness of suddenly leaving home, or just being the only trainee just floating. floating around the building waiting for maybe the apparition of a friend. 

he didn’t want friends.

but his brain demanded that he needed them. 

“jaeyoungie you work too hard.” dongwoo had told him in a whispery slur over the blankets piled on the b1a4 dorm floor. dongwoo invited him over to celebrate the arrival of new trainees to the company. the arrival of friends. jaeyoung didn’t like to drink in front of other people so he looked at his senior, amused with a sober mind. jaeyoung tended to say things he was thinking when he was drunk. word vomit on all of his insecurities. he didn’t like not knowing what he might say next. “i don’t work as hard as you.” he mumbled back. as much as his unfounded resentment and jealousy wear his nerves down, he knows deeper that dongwoo and the rest of b1a4 work harder than anyone one on earth. he could only dream of being a fraction of what they are one day. 

dongwoo shook his head until his hair flopped into his eyes, “impossible. i see you leaving the building at night, you’re up before all of us in the morning. knowing others will see you work hard makes me greedy, i want to watch over you forever. i don’t wanna see what idol life will do to you.” dongwoo grabbed his hand beneath the blanket, jaeyoung’s palms started to sweat on cue. his pupils were huge and glossy with what looked like tears, his heart pulled. 

“i’ll still be me.” jaeyoung tries to make dongwoo feel better but he just shakes his head even harder, making a childish noise of protest. 

“you’ll be an  _ idol _ .”

“you’re an idol.”

“but you’ll be shinier, cooler, with other people who are shiny and cool too.” 

“y-you’re shiny and cool hyung.” 

dongwoo laughs like it was a comical thought even when jaeyoung was completely serious, “jaeyoungie you’re very interesting.” the hand he's holding pulls him in and his other pets his hair. he basks in the warmth of another person even if he smells like soju and smoke from the bar. dongwoo was strong, caring, and the most handsome man in the world in his unbiased opinion. he’s looked at this face for years and maybe he understands the greed dongwoo feels. he doesn’t anyone else to look at it, he doesn’t want anyone else to know the dongwoo that he knows. the one that takes him to late night movies or the one who taught him how to use his voice. what is he to dongwoo that's so important?

“you’re so brave.” dongwoo whispers into his hair, clutching his head to his chest like he’s dying. like jaeyoung is bleeding out on the floor and this is the last time they’ll see each other. maybe it’s the fatigue or the constant pressure he puts on himself or no visible reason he would ever find but he cries then. he cries grabbing at dongwoo’s shirt as he pets his head like his mother would if she was here. if he hadn’t left or hadn’t ignored all the hundreds of calls she made.

“i’m scared hyung.” dongwoo wrapped his arms around his waist and hummed.

“what are you scared of?” 

“everything.” 

it wisps out into the night air and dies in the bass. tonight he’s where dongwoo said he would be, surrounded by shiny things and shiny people. he’s standing where cameras can probably see him listening to a group whose fans chant back with passion. dongwoos the army now with more to worry about than an angsty rookie who's scared of his own shadow. with all the alcohol and exhaustion he doesn’t remember what he’d said, how much it’d meant to jaeyoung. he doesn’t hold it against him, he’s busy after all. but now he’s shining with other talented people that came to him one by one just as hungry to make people proud. he got the friends he asked for. 

now what? 

there's the wall of success that still blocks all of them for now. watching the group do their set before them, fans cheering for them, he figures this is what dongwoo meant. 

he’s an  _ idol _ .

he’s an idol who will never be satisfied. there's always someone better, something greater. more trophies and more peoples hearts to win over until he dies. until he runs himself into the ground like a hunk of space rock streaking towards the earth. he’ll be beautiful but he’ll be burning. 

he’s wyatt now, onf’s brave rapper. a title he doesn’t fit but dongwoo gave him anyway. what’s he brave for? running from his problems, working to forget them. old habits die hard and being part of a team he learns not to isolate himself like he used to.

he doesn’t want to fail, now with six other people like him. 

he wants to earn dongwoo’s praise with rewards he’s earned and not just spiteful practice. 

he wants to be enough.

**5**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

there’s something wrong with him. his brain is working slower, his body isn’t responding like it’s shutting down. the aura in the room isn’t right either. there’s some tension between the invisible strings that hold all seven of them together. he was drawn to these people by those strings, a perfect destiny he lives by, and they know him better than anyone. 

and he hates lying to them. 

they’d promised

when all of them had gravitated toward each other and started living in mangwon together, preparing for the group that was nothing but a name then. they had chicken with beer- juice for the maknaes -sat in a circle just staring at each other. then he’d realized these random six guys were what he’d been searching for, a balance and discord of personality. and sitting across from him there was a boy old enough to be a man but not confident enough to act like one. he had braces and a dopy hairdo that matched his dorky jokes and nervous energy. they were playing truth or drink- he’s pretty sure seungjoon just made it up so he could get in all of their heads -and it was his turn. ask a question and if the other person doesn’t want to answer they have to drink from the unholy combination of god knows what from the cup in the middle of the circle. 

“ever kissed a guy?” he blurts it out past inebriate lips and expects everyone to stare, but they all burst out laughing. changyoon’s face flares up immediately and his eyes widen like minkyun had something growing out of his neck. 

“i c-can’t answer that.” changyoon chuckles and avoids looking directly at him. that was also when he realized his favorite thing was to make changyoon squirm. not quite uncomfortable but just a little too much honesty so it strikes a nerve.

“then drink hyung.” he smirks as changyoon just reaches into the middle of the circle and knocks the whole cup back without looking away from him. the rest of the boys hollered and whistled, “i think that answered the question for us.” hyojin snatches the cup out of changyoon’s hands and takes it to the counter to mix up another batch of whatever the fuck. changyoon coughs and makes grabby hands at seungjoon’s water until he tosses it to him. 

“jesus, what was  _ in  _ that? it tastes like the inside of a rat.” he barks over at hyojin who ignores him and keeps opening the fridge to throw things in the cup. a couple hundred turns around the circle and jaeyoung cleaning out the last of the beers without blinking, changyoon looks like he’s going to black out. his ears are red, the tip of his nose is red, even the palms of his hands. he hadn't known changyoon long enough to know he only blushes like that when he’s  _ dangerously _ drunk, too drunk to even know what country he’s in.

it’s changyoon’s turn.

he points to him with a stubby and swaying finger, “you.”

minkyun points to his own chest, y'know, like an idiot.

“yeah you.” changyoon crawls up to his hands and knees, “you wanna be the guy who kisses me? you want the  _ honor _ ?” he moves across the floor like a panther, hair in his face. no one stops him, jaeyoung just moves the cup of death out of his way. he bumps into minkyun’s crisscrossed legs with his wrists and leans the rest of the way to him. 

“not the first but not the last kyunie.”

their disgusting breaths lingered and he could smell the mystery cup from his tongue. it smelled like a margarita with a few salad dressings mixed in, not quite ‘inside of a rat’. 

and he backed away, let changyoon laugh it off and stumble back into his spot. his heart was racing and it didn't stop even when changyoon retracted his question for a tamer one. 

so basically, yeah, he did want the honor. he wanted every last piece of changyoon for himself and he didn’t care how selfish that was. and not just that night or when he had a bit too much to drink. he felt that way for years afterward without fail. 

without mercy the feeling held him. 

their relationship started weird and only got weirder. they got more comfortable with themselves and each other, the idea of telling each other everything even if it was questionable was a pillar of who they were. years past and they grow up more, grow out of just each other. minkyun gets a girlfriend and then another after debut, sneaks around everyone even if he’s sure they all knew. 

and he’s done now. 

it’d been 10 when he knocked on her door and the clock ticked quickly to midnight. he’s lying on her bed with his shirt draped over his chest and his boxers riding low on his hips. she's fixing her hair in the mirror, tightening the drawstrings on his flannel pants around her waist. the legs are too long and she stumbles around when she has them on, but he’d die before he’d stop her from wearing them. he guesses this is the last time he’ll see her in them.

“are you mad?” he mumbled at the ceiling fan, watching it spin the words around above them until she catches them. she sits on the bed next to him, laying her head on his stomach. he plays with her hair spread out over his chest. it hasn't been bleached or processed, hasn't been touched by idol stylists or frying concentrations of hair dye. she’s his escape from being an idol and an artist. with her, he’s just minkyun, a boyfriend. 

he and seohyun had been dating for about two months without raising much suspicion with her parents or friends. it’d be tough explaining why she was dating someone whose face was on the tv sometimes. 

“why would i be mad, dummy? i can’t blame you for being who you are.” his heart thumps at the choice of words. who he is? is this who he is now, does this define him now? he wonders if she can hear it. 

“i’m not different because of this one feeling.” he’s being defensive and seohyun turns to look at him her hand reaching to pull his out of her hair. her eyes are calm chocolate covered almonds, they soothe him instantly. he wonders if he can keep pretending this is love a little longer, keep hiding behind her until he’s not afraid of what he wants anymore.

“didn’t say you were, kyun. but this does mean things change. he’s your friend, your colleague-”

“he’s just a guy.” minkyun bites, resting his head back on the mattress. praying the ceiling fan would sweep up his desires as well. keep them floating around in the air for a few moments longer until he wanted them back. until he knew how to handle them. he and seohyun had been more than friends but a bit less than dating. they only went out on his days off in the middle of the night. or they stayed in and under her sheets. 

seohyun puts both her hands on his knee and squeezes. why couldn't he just stay with seohyun and her soft skin, bad jokes, small hands that fit-

that's his problem.

right, there is his problem. 

seohyun reminds him too much of someone else he knows, someone he really can’t be with. his voice is rough and he selfishly doesn’t want to hurt it for the performance tomorrow. 

this isn’t how he wants her, not on her bed or in her shower or on any surface in her house frankly. he loves her but not in the way he thought he did. 

he leaves her apartment with a parting hug, he doesn’t delete her number from his phone just yet. 

his thumbs fly over changyoon’s contact

_ otw home _

_ want anything from the convenience store? _

minkyun made himself some ramen to warm his cold and hollow bones. the cashier looked at him like he was being dramatic- he was -or like he had some of seohyun’s lipstick still on his cheek- he did. 

“our jobs shouldn’t follow us like this.” changyoon’s lips pursed and his fingers whitened as they held the table. he adjusted himself like he was scared of him, like minkyun was a hungry lion in a cage. unpredictable with tunnel vision, which isn’t too far off at this point. he can’t tell changyoon he was with seohyun, he can’t tell him he has feelings for him, he can’t tell him half the things consuming his mind because they’re all about him. it’s not about being an idol, it’s about being someone people know and watch. he can’t even start to fathom changyoon as more than a close friend without taking his job into account. so he’ll let his feelings, his problems, whip in circles on seohyun’s ceiling fan. left there until he can handle them, when onf is comfortable in their success and the public is content with their work. 

will changyoon wait for him until then?

“i-” minseok’s voice floats in front of him, soft and serious, “i think i need a walk.” 

he looks over at changyoon but he’s watching minseok go. when he turns back his eyes flash a myriad of emotions that tell him everything. they melt together and swirl like the  thermotropic liquid crystals in a mood ring. changyoon bends when he’s with him and he’s never been good at telling if it’s nerves or love. his heart stopping or it skipping. in the end, is there really a difference between death and love?

which one will he know first?

**6**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

he’s stretching a small knot in his shoulder, nodding to himself mostly that he heard the announcement. he’s sitting in a hoard of their stuff, most of it locked and covered in a black tarp to keep out rain or bugs. he’s not sure what it is about the stage that he likes. the music in his ears that's always just low enough to hear the cheers and screams of his name and his friend’s names. is it the cheering he likes, the attention to every detail of his movements? there's always at least one camera following his body on stage and tracking his feet as they sink into that weird state he gets in when he dances. like he’s playing ddr on easy mode, there are only a few steps that he’s to think about otherwise he’s just doing whatever he wants and letting himself autopilot. he has trouble not completely sinking away sometimes. not just staring at the ddr arrows slide past the screen with his hands over his ears like it can really take him away somehow.

he’s missing every move in his head. no matter how hard he tries to move he’s not fast enough. maybe that’s why he likes the stage. up there he can turn off and be just as he rehearsed or just as everyone else is doing. he can’t do that in conversations or in friendships. 

he’s never been too close with the members that don’t outright approach him and bother him relentlessly(read: changyoon). so people like hyojin and jaeyoung he doesn’t know too much about. he doesn't think hyojin feels the need to be friends with yuto per se, because he’s a leading position, yuto just needs to trust he’ll lead the team well. they don’t need to go out for ice cream or whisper secrets to each other, that’s not hyojin’s vibe anyway. 

jaeyoung.

jaeyoung doesn’t like having friends he supposes. he builds this thick soundproof wall between them like he’s reminding yuto this isn’t about friendships. that he didn’t become an idol to make unbreakable bonds he’s here to prove something and be something that no one can touch. even his affections are cold and coming from a place of being a mentor and not a friendly presence. 

“yuto.” it had been a late night the day before their seasons greetings shooting, in a dark hong kong hotel room at a time at night that yuto would ever repeat to seungjoon. yuto was lying in jaeyoung’s hotel bed trying to soak up the warmth in the sheets, resting his forearms on jaeyoung’s broad back. there was something comforting about big people. maybe yutos just small. 

he hums his response.

“yuto, what are you doing?” it’s not quite annoyed but with the touch of the too sweet voice he uses when he talks to interviewers, like he’s talking to someone who won’t understand him. 

like a child. 

yuto’s not a child, despite how he acts when he’s sure no one can see him(like now) he can hold a mature air. he’s not perpetually 15 like minseok is, and he considers himself lucky for that. 

people tend to take him seriously.

“dunno.” 

“do you need anything?”

“...no.” 

“can’t sleep?”

“something like that.”

“i have melatonin in my bag if you want it.”

sometimes they take him too seriously.

if he were minseok jaeyoung would have turned and cooed at him until he fell asleep. he would have hugged him and tangled them up until yuto couldn't tell which leg was his. they would fall asleep like that and then get up and hold hands while they got their make up done the next day

he knows that's how he treats minseok. 

“no i-” yuto presses his forehead harder into jaeyoung’s back. he doesn’t feel like speaking, just breathing in how good jaeyoung smells and how he won’t ever get to do this again with the way he’s acting. 

“treat me how you would treat minseok.” jaeyoung stiffens then laughs tight in his throat and it pierces through the air before hitting him in the chest. 

“why would-” jaeyoung turns around to face him, his bleached blond hair parted on his forehead. jaeyoung doesn’t usually wear shirts to sleep but it’s cold in their hotel room and neither of them knew how to turn the aircon off. “do you not like the way i treat you?” the shirt he’s wearing is a soft black t-shirt that hangs off his frame a little more than the shirts he usually wears. it makes it easier to grab it when it’s looser, he can hold him but not really hold him when it’s looser. 

he considers that his response.

“do you wanna answer-”

“i don't like that you treat me different from minseok. i’m a maknae too but you only hug  _ him _ , only tell  _ him _ that you’re proud of him and that you love him. is it because i’m a little older, because i’m foreign or am i not-”

jaeyoung’s warm fingers tilt up his chin and stares at him like he’s angry, like he’s about to hold yuto’s throat until the air can’t move through him anymore.

then he’s confused. 

he’s confused like no korean tongue twister has ever confused him before. like no dance sequence or high note or high shelf has ever puzzled him.

jaeyoung kisses him. 

yuto hasn’t kissed a boy- doesn’t kiss boys. he’s not particularly against it or excited about it but he wouldn’t know if he liked it-

okay, he knows. 

jaeyoung drapes an arm over his waist and his finger dips to trace the dimples in the base of his spine. it’s like a spark runs through him and causes a power surge in his brain until a fuse blows. and he stops thinking.

his ddr game gets unplugged and he can’t see the arrows anymore from jaeyoung’s bed, can’t misstep when he‘s in his arms, can’t even pretend he’s trying to play the game. 

he kisses back with his whole body. he presses into all of jaeyoung’s touches and adds a few more of his own. a hand on his shoulder and the other still holds his shirt between its fingers. he moans and jaeyoung groans lower than hell,his voice making his lips buzz. the sound of their kisses fills the room as if to remind them where they are, who they are, why they’re here. jaeyoung’s fingers are in his hair and against his shoulder, he keeps arching up and half-laughing and half-moaning, and everything that is yuto is unraveling into just an extension of jaeyoung, like he exists only to taste and touch and feel and experience.

jaeyoung pulls away first still twisting strands of his hair between his fingers.

he can’t think of anything to say.

“you interrupted me.” 

jaeyoung chokes, his coughing turning to laughter and a smile, “please, continue then.”

“am i not cute enough?” yuto’s cheeks flare up and jaeyoung’s face splits into a smile and he visibly relaxes. 

“i had a feeling you would say that.”

“so you kissed me instead of answering?” 

jaeyoung just stares at him.

“why did you kiss me?”

“because you’re cute.”

“do you kiss everyone you think is cute?”

“you sure are asking a lot of questions today.” 

“it would be nice if you answered one of them.” 

jaeyoung’s cheeks flared up red and he sighed, “i don’t kiss  _ everyone _ i think is cute. i just- i just feel like i want to and i can’t think about anything other than how i would touch-” yuto couldn't bring himself to look jaeyoung in the eyes after that, “i mean it’s not always sexual.” his ears burn and his eyes widen, because what the  _ fuck  _ is going on.

“ _ oh my god _ whatever.” jaeyoung tipped his head back and whined like  _ that _ was the most embarrassing thing that’s been said in last 8 minutes. 

yuto untangled his hand from jaeyoung’s shirt and hid behind his fingers. jaeyoung laid back onto the pillow, “i think you’re cute yuto but you don’t need me to baby you like i do minseok. you’re strong and independent, you don’t need me to validate you.” jaeyoung pets his hair, his soothing voice calming him. 

“there are a lot of things i want that i don’t need.” he finds jaeyoung’s eyes glistening in the dark, his lips catching the lights from passing headlights through the curtained window. jaeyoung’s hand slides across his cheek as he scans is face for god knows what. yuto likes being looked at from far away, a stage or through a lense. up close like this you can see his scars and the creases in his skin from laughing too hard as a kid. jaeyoung makes him feel like a kid, like he suddenly can’t do anything himself. 

“if my attention and my affection is what you want,” jaeyoung pulls him close to his chest, he can’t see what face he’s making when his forehead buries in his shirt, a steady heartbeat meets his cheek, “maybe just focus on what you need.”

_ then maybe i need it. maybe i need you. _

even now he can’t believe he and jaeyoung just went on the same after that. they didn’t get closer or further but the days when he wants attention and is desperate enough to go up to him for it, jaeyoung will give it to him. he’ll give him warm hugs and cuddle him to sleep when the dorm is asleep, whispered conversations about whatever is on his mind. but who cares about those moments the day after, who can remember? he hates to admit how touched starved and lonely he gets during comebacks or when he’s stressed. or never admit that jaeyoung is the only one that can make him feel better at this point. 

ironically enough he does need him now more than ever.

he’s sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair, in view of seungjoon eyeing them down, staring at minseok sitting on the tarp-covered floor with his big brown eyes glistening like he’s about to cry. he didn't say anything- he didn't  _ mean _ to say anything that would bring him to tears. all he had to do was listen,  _ maybe _ with a little extra reasoning and advice but otherwise, it’s far from his place to stick his nose where it doesn't belong. he had simple instructions, there were a million better directions this conversation could have gone.

seungjoon had told them to sit and wait where he can see them until it’s time to group up and head backstage. and minseok cheerfully agreed and took yuto’s hand to sit behind the tables, both of them giggling like schoolboys. 

“yuto can i ask you something?” minseok fiddled with his water bottle the crinkling the only somehow loud even with the bass from the stage pounding. minseok’s body language reads like he’s embarrassed, this is how he looks when he asks him to critique his selcas or try something he’d cooked. for someone so shy and sensitive he doesn’t get like this often, it’s kind of a treat even if it makes him nervous. nervous because- well minseok puts so much trust in him. and he hasn’t really earned it. 

“do you- i mean how do you-” minseok shakes his head and resets, “there's this person.”. yuto leans forward and tries to get to eye level with minseok to show he’s listening. 

“this person gives me- well i just have these feelings around them that i think is something like...romantic maybe?” minseok looks up at him with shifting gaze and a nervous smile that tells him he’s thought of exactly how he was going to say this and he just sad it wrong. the way he said was far from what he should be focusing on.

“they’ve just made me feel so special and the closer we get the more i start to like them. it’s dumb how i’m falling for someone who’s just warm towards me, they’re so caring.”

yuto gags but can sympathize with the feeling.

that’s how jaeyoung makes him feel sometimes.

“so you have a crush?” minseok shushes him mid-sentence with round blushing cheeks, looking to see if anyone might have heard. no one can see them let alone hear them with the music. it’s a little too dark to make out his body language other than just the general sound of fidgeting. it looks like he undoes a button his dress shirt, straightening his blazer like he’s doing something. yuto knows all of minseok’s little habits, every tiny head tilt and lip twitch to the left or the right. he likes to watch minseok talk more than he likes to understand exactly what he’s saying, when he has to respond there's a chance he’ll say something wrong or something too true. from the first day they met he was always more comfortable listening to him, either from his less than perfect korean or awkward manner around people that shine that bright. he doesn’t know how he feels about minseok. to him he’s a friend or a best friend if he really thinks about it. he hasn't been around a lot of people his age since he moved to korea, definitely not people his age that care enough to stick by him. 

“you could call it a crush.” minseok gets up onto his knees and gestures for him to move closer. he scoots to the front of his chair to meet minseok somewhere in the middle. his face catches the sliver of light coming from somewhere and hits minseok’s eyes. his long fingers pull him in like a tempting spirit putting his lips right up next to yuto’s ear. his breath is moist and heavy and unnecessarily sensual and it’s making his stomach clench. maybe it’s the dark or the proximity but, his temperature rises a few degrees and he swallows. 

“it’s one of the members.”

_ you gotta be fucking kidding me. _

**7**

“you’re on in ten, boys.”

minseok likes to daydream instead of facing his issues and anxieties. he likes to create a reality where he’s smiling and laughing with friends, there's no pressure or confusion and he just lives. he considers it a talent and not the defense mechanism jaeyoung tells him it is.

“it’s disassociating.” jaeyoung traces the outside of his fingers likes he’s drawing an invisible hand turkey on the sheets. minseok made a habit of coming to jaeyoung’s bed with his problems in tow. he’s leaning against the wall adjacent to jaeyoung’s bed, his hands being held and played with by jaeyoung sitting to his left. he says having something to play with makes it easier to think of answers to minseok’s questions and minseok likes the contact so they almost always stay like this. the rest of the members are either watching a movie in the living room or back at the company. 

but he can’t hear anything but his own thought buzzing around. 

“call it whatever, i just don’t know how to deal with all this.” he uses his free hand to gesture weakly to the empty room, at the plushies on seungjoon’s bed that sat across the floor, at the door with the floor-length mirror on it his problem.

at the face that stared back at him in it.

“just tell him. right now you’re not ‘dealing’ you’re avoiding ‘dealing.” minseok turns his head quickly to protest, “you’re dealing with feelings for him but you’re not making anything happen, is what i meant.” 

minseok slumps against the wall, leaning his head back and holding his breath. jaeyoung was right, he always was, but what can he do? what could he possibly make happen that wouldn’t make things more complicated?

“hyung what if he doesn’t like me back?” he sounds so young in his own ears, he sounds strange and small. everyone treats him like a child and he hasn’t minded because he likes the attention. and he knows himself that he’s mature and not as naive as he comes off sometimes. now he’s not sure. 

he feels scared and inexperienced when it comes to this specific crush. he’s had crushes before, on unattainable people and close friends who just so happened to share his feelings. he’s had first kisses and lingering touches in his high school bathroom and in studios with trainees that came and went. he’s had his fill of youth and rebellious fun and now that he’s an adult of sorts that kind of fun feels out of place. it feels like he needs all the answers before he places a big red ‘love’ stamp on this one. the word ‘crush’ is easy and childish. words like ‘want’ and ‘love’ and ‘relationship’ make his heart stutter and seize. isn’t it too early to want to use these words? can he have a few more years of ignorant bliss?

he looks at the slats of the minkyun’s bunk above him, looks through it. 

“what happens then?” he says it to whatever being lives in the sky and not to jaeyoung. maybe a god or two could fix him. the fates and destiny weavers that minkyun always talks about have to have answers for him.

jaeyoung clearly doesn’t

he pulls minseok closer with an arm around his shoulder, letting his head fall into jaeyoung’s lap. jaeyoung just plays with his hair and hums a melodic tune minseok doesn’t know. it helps his brain shut up and makes his eyes feel heavy. he remembers being asleep until he hears voices.

“what do you think they were doing to fall asleep like this?” a voice that sounds like seungjoon says. jaeyoung’s hand has drifted and stilled on his waist, soft snoring coming from above his head. 

“don’t wanna know.” a different voice- yuto? -says “don’t care.”

the sound of slippers being kicked off and a mattress creaking a bit from across the room. seungjoon snickers, “jealous?” 

silence.

“whatever.” yuto’s voice is farther away now, “g’night hyung.” 

he cracks his eyes open and seungjoon is staring right at him, a smirk on his face. 

“don’t worry about him, think he’s got a crush on jaeyoungie.” he says it jokingly and minseok knows he’s meant to laugh but he can’t bring himself to do anything but stare. at jaeyoung’s fingers holding him right below his ribs, loosening and tightening their grip. 

“you could call it a crush.” the word sparks in his chest and lights the short fuse to the huge bomb where his heart should be. as it falls from his lips. he wields that word like a weapon now rather than wears it like a shiny ring. that word isn’t sacred anymore, cover it in blood and dirt and shatter it for all he cares. that word makes him angry, makes him cringe. 

yuto has a crush on jaeyoung- whatever.

he’s in love with yuto- whatever. 

either way, he’ll get (ironically) crushed by these feelings if he doesn’t just say them. 

he watches yuto lean towards with his cheeks a subtle red, watches how he squirms as his breath hits his ear. he likes this, even if it means nothing at the end of the day.

“it’s one of the members.” 

he feels yuto go still under his touch and his head dip as he laughs. minseok’s heart snaps into a couple pieces and the fuse gets stomped out.

“it’s jaeyoung, i already know.” he whispers back with a bite in it. like he’s correcting him, scolding him for even thinking yuto would get it wrong. 

“why would-” 

yuto holds up his hand and minseok watches it turn to a fist when it goes back to his side, “i’ve seen you together, you know the way he looks at you, right? i’ve never seen him look at  _ anyone _ like that.” yuto’s voice is so heavy that even if his words aren't particularly mean the way he spits them at him is. 

“why would i like jaeyoung?” minseok starts to get sucked back in himself like there's a dyson v8 absolute vacuum in his stomach. 

“i already know you’re dating. you follow him like a puppy, always go to his room and fall asleep in his bed. seungjoon hyung says he hears you guys making out when you think he’s asleep.” yuto stares him dead in the eyes as he says it, he sounds like he’s joking. it has to be a joke

“that’s not true.” he can feel his thighs start to shake under him the vacuum switched to high under yuto’s downward gaze. 

“you don’t have to lie, minseok.” 

“i’m not lying. yuto why are you saying this, this isn’t-” 

“i don’t believe that.” yuto puts a hand on minseok’s shoulder, it’s warm and inviting. he feels like yuto and clearly is yuto but something- everything about him heels sharper. even his touch starts to make him hurt like a knife wound. 

“you seem like the type to go for people older than you. what does he call you when he touches you? honey, baby, sweetheart?”

yuto traces his jaw, his nails drag along the skin. he looks at him through colored contacts and eyeliner. he’s jarring in his beauty and the look in his eyes is a sin, that look in his eyes feels like anger. red roses bloom across his cheeks and down his neck, their thorns joining the pain of yuto’s words. all the petals get sucked up into the vacuum and take him with them. on any other day, under any other circumstances he might have laughed at the idea of saying something like that to jaeyoung. he might laugh and say they're just good friends and he’s like his brother and not his boyfriend. onf knows that. 

but what do they say when his back is turned?

do they think he’s someone that would- that would think-

“i like you yuto.” the vacuum keeps running and makes it harder to hear over the motor so he whispers to keep from yelling, “do you think i’m lying?”

yuto just stares at him, the grip on his chin faltering. his face drains and contorts like he expects minseok to say he’s kidding. like he’s waiting for time to reverse and get a do-over. he looks guilty, which minseok is grateful for, but that doesn’t take back what he said and the fact he thought it fit enough to say like it was the truth. 

“i’m sorry-”

“i-” he jerks his chin out of yuto’s hands, the tears welling up against his will, the more he fights them the harder it is to see through them.

“i think i need a walk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry there's a part 2 ;)
> 
> tell me what you think in the comments and thank you for reading!!!
> 
> [ my twitter ](https://twitter.com/kittykyuun)  
> come ask me things or share your prompts [ here ](https://curiouscat.me/kyunyoonpuff)


End file.
